


Coda

by Missy



Category: Clue (1985)
Genre: Character Study, Humor, Memories, Multi, Murder, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: And this is how they got on with their lives afterwards.Immediately afterwards....Or maybe they did it this way...
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Mr. Green/Wadsworth, Mrs. White/Yvette, Professor Plum/Miss Scarlet (Clue)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 49
Collections: Limited Theatrical Release 2020





	Coda

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karrenia_rune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/gifts).



> The events of this story take place after ending B of the movie, which you can watch here:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dy_33gAlJs
> 
> And the first names used for each character are derived from the ones given to their original board game selves!

**Miss Scarlet**

It was the first day of the rest of Vivienne’s life, and she wasn’t taking that fact lightly. 

Sleeping in her own bed, her eye finally off of her princess phone, her first thought was for the continued safety of her girls, and the second was for the continued safety of her last, tightly held secrets. But with Boddy in the ground and the Feds having secured Mrs. Peacock –whatever her real name was – she has a way to start fresh and try to get her past behind her.

Clearly, she couldn’t keep hooking. Maybe she’d train her girls to become a sort of secretarial pool. Deadly with their hands and their speedy fingertips. 

Either way, she thought to herself, reclining upon her plush mattress with a sigh, she was going to have to do a bit of hustling. But Vivienne wouldn’t have ended up where she is without knowing how to hustle.

She lay back, allowing the black of midnight to cover her body and spirit it away. She’d figure out later how to fix things and get her life back on track. For the moment, she’d sleep until the bags under her eyes disappeared and the taste of monkey brains left the back of her tongue. Someday it would just be a strange dream to her. 

Someday she’d be able to forget what she’d seen. But not tonight, when she could still hear the sound of voices shouting her name down in the darkness of a far-off courtyard.

**Mrs. White**

_No more men,_ Blanche vows to herself, shaking her brassy hair free from the black wig she’d worn to the Boddy place and sitting down in her third husband’s overstuffed crimson-covered easy chair. No more men, no more jealousy, and no more secrets. 

Lying had gotten her here – lies about how her husband had managed to disappear while holding government information. Lies about possible abductions and stories about evil and innocence. They didn’t know that she and Yvette had been in cahoots the whole time. Boddy hadn’t been privy to the fact that Yvette had been her lover and the two of them – confident that the law would never figure it out – had murdered Blanche’s third husband and shoved him into a burlap sack, then sunk him quietly to the bottom of the Potomac. The sex had been outstanding that night. The best ever.

But the truth had come out, between the fourth and fifth husbands, then threatened to reemerge that very evening. The last was what got her in trouble. And then, of course, she’d had to kill Yvette. Lousy luck, that.

Peacock’s mock-hysteria had provided her with a solid cover – and after all, the woman was evil, wicked, without compunction and possibly without a heart. Every other crime she’d committed that night had proven it. One more body on top of the pile of the others freshly slaughtered didn’t mean anything.

But she wasn’t going to drag herself through another pallid imitation of a marriage, and she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life in widow’s weeds. 

No more men, Blanche promised herself one more time, and fell asleep to the crackling roar of a hearth inferno. And no more beautiful women, either.

**Colonel Mustard**

Michael needed a drink and a long massage. He didn’t have hope of attaining either before the morning arrived, and so he settled into his chair with a sigh.

He might have supposed that his secrets would have been brought to light. He hadn’t been very circumspect in his activities at Scarlet’s brothel, and never had bothered to toss enough dirt over the evidence linking him back to his years of profiteering. He’d been stupid, and Boddy and Peacock had been ready to play him like a fiddle. He still felt awful about what he’d chosen to do, and thus remained heartily sorry for his foolish choices.

He rubbed at his own temples. Nothing he could say or do would erase his own mistakes, which were prodigious at this point. 

At least the crux of his secrets would be hidden from public view forever. They’d fly off with the wind, and he’d be able to get on with his life in the morning – whatever sort of life he had leftover, that was.

He thought again of Scarlet and smiled. He probably always would, when he remembered what her lips tasted like, and what she felt like in his arms.

He and every other man in Washington.

**Professor Plum**

Peter thought he’d left his sense of guilt behind years ago. It wasn’t that he felt particularly bad that his roving lust had gotten that poor singing telegram girl shot to death on Boddy’s doorstep – it was that he’d been foolish enough to fall into the trap that had been laid before him.

Damn it, he was smarter than that.

Puffing away at his pipe, he exhaled a cloud of tobacco smoke before reclining and breathing deeply until slumber finally arrived. He wondered if Wadsworth could help him get his license to practice back. Indeed. With a positive connection back to Washington, maybe he’d be able to get his license to practice back.

Well. It couldn’t hurt to try.

**Mr. Green and Wadsworth**

“So now she’ll be locked away forever.” Jonathan swiped the velvet cloth across his glasses as he settled them upon the nightstand. Wadsworth climbed into bed beside him with a yawn.

“Yes, and we’ve got the situation locked down. A true victory for the American government, as well as our bedroom.” Wadsworth wrapped an arm around Jonathan's middle and let out a long yawn.

There had been one little secret that they hadn’t revealed to the dinner guests back at the old Boddy place. Well, some intimacies were best kept pressed close to the chest, and some things really were immaterial to the situation. No one needed to know that Uncle Sam doesn’t care how gay you are if you bring home the bacon and reel in the crooks. Jonathan and Wadsworth were lucky that way. They knew how to bring in the wicked and keep the good safe.

And when the evil were wrest to the ground and their country safe, they came home to safety. And to sleep with one another.


End file.
